


From Milan, with love

by Akemichan



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Tattoos, First Meetings, Gay Disaster Shiro (Voltron), M/M, Meet-Cute, Sheith Big Bang 2019, Tattoist!Keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:41:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21706909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akemichan/pseuds/Akemichan
Summary: Shiro wants a tattoo. But not a regular one, the one from a specific artist that lives far, far away from himA unexpected journey to Milan will bring more than he hopes for.My entry for the Sheith Big Bang (Reverse)!
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 58
Collections: Sheith Big Bang 2019





	From Milan, with love

**Author's Note:**

> This is my entry for the Second Wave Sheith Big Bang.  
> I've been lucky to work with wonderful [Mosesins](https://twitter.com/mose_doodles), who created not only the prompt but also the wonderful designs for the tattoos you'll see in my story. They're wonderful and I hope I did them justice.  
> You'll find most of the arts she made in the story, but I still have a couple to add because she made a lot and they're all incredible! I'll also add her direct link as soon as possible.  
> EDIT: here's the [link](https://twitter.com/mose_doodles/status/1206685113825673216) at all the art!  
> Also shout out to my amazing beta [Lole](https://twitter.com/leandralena) that helped me to make this story even better!
> 
> Since both I and another author had back then the same prompt, to avoid making two similar stories, I decided to place mine in the city of Milan. So, yes, this is also a small love declaration to Milan.
> 
> I hope you like it! And please come scream in Sheith at me [AkemilovesSheith](https://twitter.com/AkemilovesS)

“I’m thinking about getting a tattoo.”

Shiro scrolls the screen of his phone, head rested on his prosthetic arm. On the other side of the table, Matt stops turning the spoon in his coffee cup and looks up at him.

“Yeah?”

“I think it’s time,” Shiro continues. “Becoming an astronaut, going into space, surviving the accident, losing my arm… I definitely think I’ve lived a good enough life to get one.”

“Are you sure it’s a good idea?” Matt asks. “I mean, with the Garrison’s rules…”

Shiro raises an eyebrow. “And what can they do about it? Bench me?”

Matt is wise enough to avoid the argument. “Do you already have something in mind?”

“Something like this,” he says and shows Matt his phone screen.

It’s the Instagram page of a tattoo artist, with photos of his tattoos. They were mostly arm and shoulder tattoos, with geometric or floral designs. A couple of photos show landscapes.

“Something like that, but space-themed. And on my chest.”

“Well, your chest is big,” Matt laughs.

Shiro takes back the phone and continues looking at the screen. He loves this artist. There's just… something in his tattoos, that lures Shiro in. In his search through Instagram, he saw a lot of good tattoo artists but none of their work spoke to Shiro as much as keithk_blades did.

“Have you tried to contact him already?”

“No, and I can’t. He lives in Italy.”

“Taking two planes seems a little excessive for a tattoo.” Matt hums. “But I suppose it’s typical of you, isn’t it?”

People had always told Shiro that he always goes for the most difficult tasks. It’s true even for a simple tattoo.

“Yeah…” Shiro takes a last look at the screen, before putting the phone back in his pocket. “I’m trying to find someone similar around here, but so far no luck.”

Matt pats his back as they leave their table in the cafeteria. Matt walks Shiro to his office, even though he’s supposed to be in the laboratory already.

He’s so late that he pales when he sees Sam sitting down at Shiro’s desk. “And that’s all about our research, Shiro. You’re up to date.”

Sam smirks at him. “Nice save, but I’m here for Shiro.”

“For me?” Shiro repeats. “Are the higher-ups are still using you as a pawn because they don’t want to face me?”

“More or less.” Sam replies with a sad sigh. “But this time, it could be something nice.”

Shiro sits down at his desk and crosses his arms. “Okay, I’m curious.”

“The USA Expo Management asked the Garrison to send someone to to hold some conferences and teach a few lessons at the Milan Expo.” Sam explains. “Since the Expo Theme is sustainable foods and we have conducted research on cultivable foods in space, they think it would be interesting for an exhibit at the pavilion.”

Shiro’s doesn't bother with a comment, and just goes with an unconvinced glare, so Sam continues.

“And they have also contacted the Science and Technology Museum in Milan, they would love to have an astronaut that was able to hold some lessons there as well, more of a space explorer theme.”

“Looks like the higher-ups want me out of the way for real,” Shiro states. “They want me on another continent entirely.”

“You know I never agreed with their decision,” Sam says, “but this offer isn’t so bad. You’ll get a free trip, all expenses paid, and I thought you liked teaching.”

“I do. It’s just…” 

“Shiro doesn’t want to give them any more reasons to exclude him from new missions,” Matt said bluntly.

“You don’t have to decide now. They won’t confirm the conferences for another month. But think about it. It might be good for you to take a break from all… this situation.”

Shiro nods. “I will,” he assures.

Matt waits for Sam to leave before approaching Shiro with a conspiratory grin on his face. “You have to go.”

“Matt…”

“Go! Find your tattoo artist, get your dream tattoo and let the higher-ups pay for it!”

Oh. Well. It is actually a nice idea.

Six months, an eight-hour flight, a bus, two metros, a quick check in to leave his suitcase in the hotel room, another metro and a fast walk later, Shiro found himself in front of the door of the Blade of Marmora’s tattoo shop.

It was situated not far from the Central Train Station, on a side street full of ethnic restaurants that filled the air with a strong, pleasant smell. The main road at the end of the street brings the sound of the traffic to Shiro’s ears, but it fades away once Shiro closes the door of the shop behind him.

The hall of the studio is small and dark red. The walls are plastered with photos of tattoos and drawings; not all of them are Keith’s, Shiro looked at Instagram’s page for far too long to not be able to tell the difference.

The brightest thing in the room is the girl at the counter, with her blonde hair and her white and pink dress. She gives Shiro a wide smile.

“Buongiorno!”

“Ah. Buonogirnò.” Shiro takes out his phone and opens Keith’s Instagram’s page. “Sirco quisto artist… Keith?” He’s pretty satisfied with himself, he spent most of his time on the plane learning how to ask basic things in Italian.

The girl nods and turns her head to the half-closed door behind her. “Keith! C’è un cliente per te!”

“Non ho appuntamenti per oggi.”

“Non credo abbia un appuntamento, è uno straniero.”

“Uno straniero?”

“Giapponese? Forse è un amico di tua madre.”

Shiro blinks. He hadn't understood a bit of the dialogue exchanged, except for the name ‘Keith’. And if the male voice he’s hearing is Keith’s, well, it’s a pretty nice voice.

“Arrivo.” The door opens and a young man appears. “Finisci tu di sistemare dietro, per favore.” The girl nods to him and closes the door behind her. Once they’re alone, he turns his face to Shiro. “Mi cercava?”

A pretty nice voice attached to a pretty nice body. Shiro hadn’t spent too much time fantasizing about Keith’s appearance, but now that he has Keith in front of him, he realizes his mind imagined him as a middle-aged man with no hair and entirely covered by tattoos. A match-ups between The Rock and David Beckham.

Which wouldn’t be half-bad. But the real thing is way better.

Keith doesn’t look at all like he had pictured. He has tattoos, of course. Shiro can see a shadow of a wolf’s head on his right wrist and a knife on the left upper arm. But he’s a short, slender man with big blue eyes and long, dark silky hair kept in a high ponytail. And he’s like, 80% legs and Shiro absolutely doesn’t want to check out his ass.

He stays there, mouth half-open.

“May I help you?” Keith says.

Oh, thank God Keith speaks English. Shiro isn’t sure he would have been able to try his (very basic) Italian when his brain was still trying to process the situation. He expects to meet a good artist, not a hot artist.

“Yes… I’m here… for a tattoo?” he murmurs. “You’re really good…?”

“Thanks.” Keith nods, and his eyes move a little over to his right. “Did you have already an idea of what you want? Are you looking for something in particular?”

Before his journey, Shiro had chosen three tattoos from the Instagram page that he really liked, with the idea of turning them, if possible, into something space-related. Just now though he completely forgot about them and his brain was a blank slate.

“No… Not really,” he answers. “Just… something big on my chest…?”

Keith’s eyes wander over Shiro’s chest for a while and Shiro hopes, really hopes that he isn’t imagining the fact that Keith seems a little bit pleased by it.

“Okay. I’ll show you some of my older designs for chest tattoos, so you can tell me if there is something that you like.” He bends down and takes a binder out from behind the counter. He puts it on the counter facing Shiro and opens it. “So, first question: black and white or colored?”

“Yes.”

Keith raises an eyebrow and Shiro thinks he’s an idiot.

Matt doesn’t even try to be sympathetic over the phone. He laughs, loud and clear. “Man, I can’t believe it,” he manages to say, almost choking himself. “You travel all the way from the USA just to be a total gay disaster.”

“Are you done underlining the obvious?” Shiro lies down in his queen-size bed and keeps the cell phone above his head, even as Matt deactivates his camera from too much laughing.

“Sorry, sorry.” When Matt reappears on the screen, there are tears in his eyes. “Go on. Did you manage to find a tattoo you like?”

“Well, Keith showed me some designs that could be altered to fit the space theme.” Shiro is very thankful that Keith was kind enough to ignore his staring, which Shiro is sure he noticed. “But we didn’t reach a definitive choice. I’m going to see Keith tomorrow evening for dinner to discuss it further.”

Matt’s eyes widens. “Are you seriously telling me that after all the shit you put out, you still got a date with your hot tattoo artist? Man, you’re a true MVP!”

“It’s not a date,” Shiro replies. “It’s a business meeting.”

“Because it’s so normal for artists to have dinner with their customers.”

“Well, maybe it’s an Italian custom, who knows.”

“Yeah, sure.” Matt doesn’t look convinced. “So, what do you plan for your not-date? Are you gonna be strictly professional and get your tattoo or will you indulge in some holiday romance?”

It’s a joke, but Shiro is straight (for once) in answering, “I don’t know.”

He didn’t expect to say that. His break-up with Adam was almost a year ago, but Shiro hasn’t been actively looking for someone else, his focus is completely on his work. Which was the reason for him and Adam splitting up anyways. His goals for his trip to Italy we’re to get a tattoo, and make contact with scientists and astronauts from all over the world during the conference.

A meet-cute and the following date wasn’t planned at all.

Matt remains silent, so Shiro sighs.

He stands up and reaches the big window of the hotel room. From the twelfth floor he’s on, he can see the pavilions of the Expo, with all the lights around, like an amusement park. The night is dark, with no stars visible in the black sky.

“Well, I'm going to hang up now. I haven’t rested once since last night and the jet-lag is killing me.”

“Oki-doki. But I want to know everything about your date, gotcha?”

Shiro would love to enjoy the situation nearly as much as Matt.

***

Porta Genova, 8:30 P.M.

Since Shiro doesn’t know the distance, or the amount of time it takes to travel except for what google maps said, he arrives at 08:00 P.M.

And Keith is already here, in front of the newsstand. He’s looking at his cellphone, ignoring the flow of the people that pass next to him. Shiro takes a couple of minutes to admire his attire, his black jeans and the white t-shirt without sleeves so his tattoos are visible, including a third one on the right arm that Shiro missed on their first meeting. His hair is free and falls over his shoulders.

“Hi.” Shiro takes two steps forwards and gets Keith’s attention.

Keith lifts his gaze and his blue eyes widen a little, before his lips turn up into a thin smile.

“Hey. Did you have problems getting here?”

Given that Shiro is half an hour early, the answer is obviously no, but Shiro decides to jump in with his humor for once. He just shakes his head. “Shall we go?”

“Oh, sure.” Keith puts the cellphone in his pocket and gestures towards one set of stairs. “I know a nice place around here. I hope you like it.”

“I trust you on it.”

The Navigli are crowded. The small river that crosses this district creates two paths on its sides. Restaurants and pubs surrounded them, and people eat and chat at tables just in front of the river. The smell of pizza reaches Shiro’s ears ring of all the chaos. The sky is still light and azure above them.

Keith doesn’t choose any of the busy places in front of the river. He takes a secondary street behind the underground station, leaving all the noise and the confusion behind them. He walks steadily in front of Shiro, heading for a more deserted area.

Shiro’s ears are grateful.

“I have to say, if your plan is to bring me into a dark alley and kill me, can you avoid knives? I’m afraid of blood.”

Keith halts immediately.

“I’m not-” He turns and notices the small smirk on Shiro’s face. “You’re joking. Got it.”

“Yep.” Shiro chuckles. “It’s just…” He gestures around: the street they’re walking on has closed shops, and most of the tall buildings look like offices. Not a tourist area for sure.

“Sorry,” Keith says, and he looks regretful. “I don’t really like… crowned place. But maybe you would prefer something more-”

“No, it’s fine,” Shiro interrupts him. “I was just trying to lighten up the mood.”

Keith doesn’t look entirely convinced. He observes Shiro with his head tilted a little to his side. “We’re almost there,” he assures Shiro, before turning around and starting to walk again.

The local place Keith chose is a small one, on an isolated street, with only one room with two small tables and six barstools. They’re the only guests at the moment. It’s a Japanese restaurant; better, one that only makes Okonomiyaki.

Keith isn’t looking at him. “Maybe you were expecting an Italian restaurant, but a friend of my mother runs this place and it’s pretty good so…”

“I love it. I haven’t had Okonomiyaki in ages.” Shiro takes a deep breath as he walks into the restaurant, appreciating the familiar smell.

Keith’s face looks more relaxed. “Hey, Ulaz.” He calls for the cook on the other side of the glass: the kitchen is visible from the tables’ area.

“Keith! Che bello vederti.” There’s a different accent in his Italian. Ulaz washes his hands and emerges from the glass to greet them. “Chi è il tuo amico?” He turns to Shiro and bows his head a little. “Hajimemashite.”

“Watashi wa Shirogane Takashi desu. Hajimemashite.”

Keith rolls his eyes. “Please, can you speak English? My Japanese is a little rough.”

Ulaz nods, but folds his arms. “La colpa è tua che non lo parli più con tua madre.”

“È lei che parla poco con me.”

“Please, Shirogane-san, sits down.”

Ulaz sets the table, and then brings them the menu and takes their orders. He returns to the kitchen and the sound of the spatulas on the metal sheet fills the room. Shiro looks at Keith, whose eyes are fixed on Ulaz’s movements.

“So… your mother is Japanese?” Shiro suspected Keith has some eastern heritage.

“Uh-uh.” Keith nods but doesn’t look at Shiro. “She lives in Japan,” he adds. “She’s a mangaka.”

“A mangaka? Wow… artistry flow in the family.”

Keith doesn’t look impressed. “I guess so.”

“And your father?” Shiro tries to change the subject.

“He’s dead.”

Damn. Apparently Shiro can’t get it right. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” This time, Keith turns to look at Shiro. “He was a fireman, he died in the line of duty. He was a real hero.” There’s a shadow of a smile on his lips. “What about you? My mother is from Okinawa.”

“I’m from Hokkaido, but I don’t live there anymore,” Shiro answers. “I live in Arizona now. It’s been a while since the last time I visited… My grandfather is great, but I don’t have a great relationship with my parents.”

“What a surprise.”

“Well, I don’t know about yours, but mine… don’t appreciate my career choices. They wanted me to take over the family company, I wanted to be an astronaut. That’s why I left.”

“So you are an astronaut for real, it’s not just a cool Instagram description.” Keith looks surprised at his own sentence, and Shiro doesn’t hide a small smirk.

“So you noticed all my likes on your posts.” Shiro left an embarrassing number of them.

Ulaz serving them the Okonomiyaki saves them both from the embarrassment of the conversation. Keith uses the chopsticks sticks like a pro and Shiro is grateful that he hasn’t lost the ability, even if it’s been a while. The Okonomiyaki is pretty good and Shiro takes his time to enjoy it.

“So, I’ve been thinking about some designs for your tattoo,” Keith says, after his third bite. “I’m not entirely sold on any of them, but take a look.”

He lends Shiro his cellphone and shows him a couple of pictures of Keith’s drawings. The first one is a constellation: the stars are drawn with twelve tips and connected with thin black lines. The constellation starts from the side and spread over the chest until it reaches the neck and the shoulder.

“It’s not a real constellation, but if we can find one that fits, we can use it,” Keith explains.

The second one is a landscape, in this case, it occupies just the center of the chest. The form is triangular: a desert on the bottom, almost like a canyon with a mountain in the far reaches and above it, the dark sky with the moon and a couple of planets at the top.

“I find it a little too dark, and for a first tattoo, it could be a little too much.”

The third one is smaller, also with a triangular form. It depicts a shuttle flying towards the moon, purple and azure and stars around. Shiro can’t hide a smile: it reminds him of all the time he spent in a shuttle for real.

“This is my favorite, but it’s not big enough to cover all of your chests.”

Shiro nods. He has a big chest. “They’re all beautiful, and to be honest I like this last one the most.”

“But?” Keith catches his hesitation.

“I’m not usually content with the minimum,” Shiro says, with an apologetic smile. “I’d like to see my tattoo and not think ‘oh, nice’ rather ‘yes, this is the one, this is the one I want’.”

Keith doesn’t look offended. “I understand. The choice of a tattoo is very important. Let me work on it some more.”

Shiro would like to ask Keith more. He wanted to know more about Keith, about his family, about his tattoos.

But they we’re not that close yet, so Shiro tries for a more casual approach.

“Have you visited the Expo?”

“No.”

“Would you like to?” Shiro thinks he can get a couple of free passes.

“Not really.” Disappointment must be visible on Shiro’s face, because Keith’s eyes widen a little. “I didn’t mean to undervalue your work, of course. I’m sure you’re very prepared and your conference is pretty interesting.”

Shiro smiles. “You’re nice, but you don’t have to sugar coat it. I survived the existence of the Flat-Earth society; I can survive anything.”

Keith laughs. “That bad, uh?”

“Yep. Never check their website if you want to preserve your brain cells.”

“Noted.”

“Besides, I don’t have such a strong opinion on the Expo to get offended,” Shiro adds. “I’m going to do my conferences and such, but for now… it kinda looks like an amusement park. My work is more serious than that.”

Keith nods. “That was my impression too.” He’s relaxed now. “The theme is important, but it feels more like a show of prestige than an actual way to resolve world problems. And… I don’t really like those kinds of chaotic places. It’s important for Milan as an international city, but I’m not going to waste three hours of my life just to see a pavilion.”

Shiro can understand that. He’s lucky he can jump the queues, since he is one of the speakers. “You don’t like crowded places, do you?”

“Not really.”

“But you live here.”

Milan is crowded. And chaotic. Better than Tokyo or Las Vegas, but having lived on the desert Garrison base for so long, and then in space too, he almost forgot what living in a big city is like.

“I’ve gotta work for living. You won’t find many people wanting a tattoo in the countryside.” Keith shrugs. “Also, Milan isn’t as bad as it sounds. It’s just…” He looks at Shiro with his big blue eyes. “You can’t see the stars from here.”

Oh. That’s something that resonate with Shiro.

“You can’t,” Shiro confirms. “From my grandfather’s house… the sky was dark and deep… I love seeing the stars from there…”

“And then you went to space.”

Shiro nods, and a small, sad smile surfaces. “I did.”

“Well, you won’t find it like that here in Milan,” Keith says, after a second of hesitation. “But there are nice places around… Just, my favorite places aren’t everyone else’s.”

“I want to see them.” Words erupt from Shiro’s mouth before he can think them through. “I mean, if you’d like. I would like to see your personal city. And then we have to meet again for the tattoo, right?”

But Keith smiles. “Sure. Even if I’m not sure it will help convince you that I’m not a killer.”

***

“He took you to a cemetery?!”

Knowing that Pidge won’t go near places that are older than ten years, makes her reaction understandable.

“A Monumental cemetery,” Shiro corrects her.

“Oh, sorry, that changes everything,” she muses. “Are you sure this guy isn’t a serial killer?”

“I’ll let you know if he decides to stab me in the back.”

“Bold to you assume you will have a swift death.”

Black humor doesn’t work on Pidge’s anymore. It doesn’t stop Shiro from trying.

“Sorry. Then I’ll let you know how he tortured me to death.”

“Better.” Shiro can almost see Pidge’s satisfied smile. “But, for real, should I be worried about this Keith guy?”

He feels warm thinking that a girl ten years younger than him, considers him family enough to be worried about him.

“No, you shouldn’t,” he assures her.

It isn’t the entire truth.

He’s sure Keith isn’t a bad guy. But he could do some damage to Shiro, even unknowingly. He could break his heart.

“I know it seems unconventional, but it has been an informative day. That cemetery… it’s more like an open museum. A lot of famous artists have their works there.”

“But they’re still tombs.”

“Yes.”

The problem is that Pidge wasn’t there. She didn’t look at Keith as he told Shiro the story of the cemetery, or when he described the sculptures, with his eyes shining and a big smile on his face. She didn’t see Keith’s hands at work when he drew one of the sculptures on paper, the way his drawings seemed alive.

Shiro recognizes passion when he sees it, because he has it too.

And it’s easy to feel in love with it.

The next place Keith took him was astonishing. The clear, fresh water from the lake; set between high steep mountains, with a small strip of beach around the edge.

But Shiro’s attention isn’t on the green mountains, or the shining water below the blue sky with the bright sun, or even on the white pebbles that tickles his naked feet.

No, his eyes are on Keith, as his figure emerges from the lake, bond girls style, water dripping down his body and his long black hair spilling over his shoulders. The small red swimsuit really doesn’t leave anything to the imagination, and it shows all of Keith’s tattoos.

Shiro feels blessed, watching Keith wrings his hair out, but eternally grateful that it's far from their spot, so Shiro can observe the scene with his mouth half open and still have enough time to recover before Keith reaches him.

“You didn’t go in?” Keith asks.

“Not yet. I’d like to warm up a little more.”

Keith nods and lies down on the bath towel, back up facing the sun and head resting in his arm. “But you like here, right?” His voice sounds a little bit uncertain.

“Oh, absolutely. It’s wonderful,” Shiro hurries to answer, and he’s honest. “It’s been a while since I’ve been on a beach, and this is my first time on a lake beach.”

“It’s not so different from the sea. The water is just a little bit heavier.” Keith turns his head a little towards Shiro. “No beaches in Arizona?”

“A lot, actually. I was just too busy to go there.”

“I guess space is another thing.”

Shiro smiles. “Yeah… Space is…” He lifts his eyes at the sky. “Overwhelming. Maybe it’s a little bit cliché, but it’s true. Seeing the Earth from afar, floating in the void, with nothing but the dark around you… The feeling isn’t replicable and it’s addicting.”

Keith is looking at him with big, attentive eyes, but Shiro shuts up. He does like speaking about space, about his work, because it usually leads people to ask about his prosthetic arm. Never a conversation that he feels at ease with, at least not yet.

“You have a lot of tattoos.”

Wow, Captain Obvious. Not the smoothest change of subject ever, for Shiro, but it works. Keith makes a small, shy smile.

“Yeah. Considering my job, it’s like my body is a publicity advertisement.”

“It’s a gorgeous one.” Shiro’s brain tries to rectify the damage done by his tongue and adds, “not all of them are your design, right?”

The amount of time Shiro spent staring at the Instagram page to be able recognize Keith’s work is still less embarrassed that his gay disaster moments.

There is a little shade of red on Keith’s cheeks. Maybe it’s the sun.

“No, the first ones are from the original owner of the Blade shop, my uncle Kolivan.” Keith sits on the bath towel and rubs his left wrist, where the ‘bite me’ tattoo is. “This is the first tattoo I ever got.”

“Rebellious teenager phase?” Shiro muses.

Keith chuckles. “Not having a tattoo would have been rebellious.” His hand is still on the tattoo, and his eyes focus on the blue water. “When my father died… I should have gone to live with my mother. In Japan,” he clarifies. “But her work doesn’t allow her the time to take care of a child, and since I lived most of my life in Italy, she preferred to let me stay here. That’s how I ended up with my uncle, Kolivan.”

“And he was a tattoo artist?”

Keith nods. “I wasn’t very interested in his job, you know. I thought it was stupid, just like my mother’s job. My father was a fireman. That was a real job, helping real people.”

“What happened then?”

“Since my grades at school weren’t… great, my uncle forced me to work in his shop. That’s how I met them, the people who I could help.”

Shiro doesn’t press, even if he’s curious to know the remainder.

“There’s a lot of reasons for someone to get a tattoo. Some people do it to feel better about their bodies after an accident,” Keith continues. “For example, a woman who survived breast cancer… people say it helps them reconnect to themselves.” His eyes flash towards Shiro, and his lips curl in a small smile. “I’m not saying there are nobler or less noble reasons to get a tattoo, just that it made me realize that even an artist can help real people.” He gazes over towards Shiro’s prosthetic, but he doesn’t add anything. He turns back to look at the lake. “That’s it. That’s why I become a tattooist.”

“It’s a nice story,” Shiro murmurs. And after all, isn’t he here after an accident too? The fingers of his prosthetic flex. “So, are there stories behind your tattoos?”

“Ah, I’m afraid my stories aren’t nearly as deep as the ones I was talking about.” Keith shakes his head. Still, he points at the wolf on his wrist. “This was my first one, it’s not very original as you can see, but I wasn’t very friendly back then.” He turns his arm palm up, to show the knife on the left arm, and Shiro also notices the half-moon that accompanies it. “This one is to remember when Kolivan took me as his apprentice. It wasn’t an easy ride.”

There is an amused smile on Keith’s face and Shiro thinks he definitely wants to ask more about it in the future.

“This is my first design. I made it in memory of my father.” He turns his body to the right so Shiro can observe the skull tattoo with flowers around. “I hope he isn’t too disappointed in me.”

“I’m pretty sure he's proud of who you are,” Shiro immediately says. He’s an expert in disappointing his own parents.

Another small smile, but Keith doesn’t look at him. “Then, Kolivan decided to retire and left the shop to me, so I created this one on my chest, to see my improvement since my first design. And the last one,” he taps his right leg, where there was another sword with flowers, and with a design that reminds him of the face of a lion, “is Romelle’s design. Since I hired her, I wanted her to be reassured of her talent.”

“You’re a good person.”

“I try to be.” Keith shrugs and he lies down again..

In that position, the big tattoo on the chest is the most visible thing on Keith’s skin. Unashamed (his dignity left him days ago), Shiro’s eyes follow the curl of the flowers, the way they curl and spread from a small center, like an atom, and create the intricate bouquets on both sides. The left one, on the bottom, almost hidden is another small skull, surely another memory of Keith’s father.

Looking at it, Shiro notices something else.

“What’s this?”

Without thinking, Shiro reaches out and rubs Keith’s skin on the right side of his chest, right under the ribs. Keith flinches under his touch, but doesn't pull away. It’s almost invisible next to the big chest tattoo, but Shiro can see that it’s a small tattoo with the moon phases.

“When I was a child, we didn’t live in Milan,” Keith says. “We lived in a small town… and at night, the sky was dark and full of stars. My father and I did a lot of sky watching…” He turns his head to Shiro, a small smile on his face. “I dreamed of the space once too.”

Shiro hadn’t expected that.

“Can I ask you something?” Keith asks.

“Sure.”

He expects a question about his time in space. Instead, Keith says, “a tattoo won’t be a problem for you, right? I don’t know all the rules for astronauts but…”

“Oh.” Shiro releases a snort. “Well, they have already grounded me without it, at least if i'm stuck I can have a good reason for it.”

“What?” Keith lifts himself up, so he’s sitting on the towel and looks at Shiro with a slight frown on his face.

“Well.” Shiro hesitates. He isn’t used to venting, except with the Holt family that know him well enough to understand. Shiro is used to being the good guy. Always working hard and sucking it up, proving himself with actions. And in front of Keith, who just confessed that he wanted to be an astronaut too…

“You know, I worked hard. I sacrificed years of my life for this job. My scores were better than everyone else's and I successfully led many missions in space. And now, because of a mistake they made on the hatch, they’ve turned their back and me.” He waves his prosthetic arm through the air, angry. “My scores are still the best. Despite the arm, I still passed all the health tests. Yet people look at me and they see a disabled man, someone only worthy of pity. And they’re the reason I lost my arm in the first place!”

During the whole rant, Keith looks at him straight in the face, without changing his expression. “Do you want to go back up in space?”

“Yes.” Shiro sighed, feeling drained. “I want to. Space is… everything for me. But sometimes I’m tired of fighting everyone and everything over and over again…”

Keith puts his hand over his prosthetic one. “Fuck them.”

“What?”

“The world is out there, Shiro,” Keith says. “I don’t know much about the ESA, but I’m sure they would hire an astronaut like you.” He smiles. “Don't be stuck with people who don’t appreciate you, get something good from this Expo at least.”

***

His time in Italy is coming to an end, and he still has no idea what to about his tattoo. Keith proposed that he would create the design for it, and let another tattoo artist in Arizona apply it on Shiro’s body. Shiro is grateful to Keith for it, but he feels like Keith’s tattoo should be made by Keith and Keith only.

That’s the reason why he took Sam’s proposal, to stay a little longer in Italy, in a positive way. Apparently, his conference has been so well attended, that the coordinators of the Expo wanted to organize some more. Also, Shiro’s presence has been requested again by the Planetarium and the Science and Technology Museum of Milan.

“Sam,” Shiro interrupts his explanation. “Tell me the truth. Are the higher-ups trying to keep me away for a specific reason? They’re organizing something they don’t want me to apply for?”

For a second, Sam remains silent. “You know I’m on your side.”

“I know.”

“So believe me, that if I hear something about a new expedition, you will be the first one I’ll tell.”

“Of course.”

“But,” Sam adds, “for the same reason, I need to warn you, that they probably have a plan in mind besides all those conferences. Maybe they’re trying to get you used to it. Get you used to civilian life as a teacher. It’s not like they spoke with me, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they want you to resign.”

“I see. Thank you, Sam.”

“You don’t have to accept this extension. It’s not an order, and I can suggest other names… We can find a reason for you to come back.”

“No, it’s fine.” Teaching isn’t so bad. He likes it. He doesn’t want it to be an excuse to lose his position as an astronaut though. “I’ll stay. At least I won’t have to see their faces for a while.”

***

He doesn’t expect Keith to be there, at the conference: even if he asked a lot about Shiro’s work, he never showed any interest in becoming a part of it, and Shiro never asked.

It’s a pleasant surprise, knowing that Keith is informed about his conferences.

He graciously makes it through the post-conference questions, and lets the museum’s director take care of some guests as he gets near to Keith, who sat down in the last row, head lowered over a notebook on his knees.

“Did you like it?”

Keith shuts the notebook fast. He lifts his head and smiles. “Yeah. You were… very passionate.”

Shiro chuckles. “Thank God you weren’t here for the conference about the constellations. I gave my worst there.”

“I didn’t mean in a bad way,” Keith replies, the smile still on his face. “It’s your life. It’s nice to see you like this. In your element…”

“Well, this isn’t exactly my element, but close enough.” He turns his head and sees a child pointing out a poster with the solar system to his parents. Nothing can compare to being in space, but inspiring the new generations is still satisfying.

“Yeah, well, I can imagine. But hearing you talk about space really put things in perspective. Shows how much you love it.”

“Yes, well…”

Shiro won’t turn this conversation into another rant about what happened to him and his arm. He’s glad he can be more himself with Keith, but their time is limited. He won’t waste it.

“Do you have time now?”

Keith frowns a little. “Yeah, the shop is closed today. Why?”

“You’ll see.” Shiro gives him an amused smile, as he walks back towards the front desk of the museum. “Marcò. Can you do me a favor?”

“Which one?”

“I’d like to use the flight simulator, if it’s available.”

Marco’s face remains impassable. “Just let me check.” He takes his cell phone and calls the help desk, asking something in Italian. When he ends the call, he smiles to Shiro. “No reservations. It’s all yours.”

“Thank you so much!”

He returns to Keith with a broad smile. “Come on.”

Keith looks a little perplexed, but he follows Shiro in the labyrinth of the Technology Museum until they reach the planes and helicopter area. Keith’s eyes widen as he understands Shiro’s idea.

“Usually you have to make a reservation and be accompanied by an instructor, but…”

“You’re better than any instructors they have here,” Keith concludes.

“I was thinking more about the fact that after all the conferences I’ve done here I’m a friend with the director and that should give me some advantage, but since you said that…” He smiles. “I hope I haven’t exaggerated my talent too much.”

“Let me evaluate that.” There is a hint of a challenge in Keith’s words that Shiro doesn’t miss.

But once they are in the simulator, everything disappears. Shiro is in his element. He grins as the simulation starts. It isn’t the same thing as being in a real airplane, and it's not even a space simulator, but it’s enough that Keith can see his skill and trust Shiro’s instinct. He tries a couple of irregular maneuvers, but Keith doesn't seem to mind, his eyes bright and mouth wide with happiness.

“Wanna try?” Shiro asks as the simulation ends.

“Yes,” Keith answers without hesitation.

Shiro shows him the controls before letting Keith take command. He isn’t used to be just the co-pilot, but it’s easy to settle into this routine with Keith. Just the comfortable silence and the flying scene in front of them. The fact that Keith is actually a really good pilot helps.

“Wow, you’re a natural,” Shiro says, honest at the end of the simulation.

Keith lowers his head in embarrassment, not hiding the satisfied smirk on his face though. “All those video games help, I guess.”

Shiro puts a hand on his shoulder. “Why did you come here today?”

“I wanted to see you in your habitat.” There is just a hint of embarrassment in Keith’s voice. “I know I haven’t been able to create a tattoo that you love, and your time here is ending, so I thought that maybe… it would help me, seeing you au natural.”

“And?” Shiro encourages him.

“A tattoo can be made for a lot of reasons… to commemorate a particular event, as a symbol of a new beginning, or just for aesthetic reasons…” Keith takes the notepad out of his pocket and leafes through the pages. “You can give it any meaning you prefer, but when you talked at the conference… You were so passionate about space… I already knew, but seeing it…”

He moves the notebook towards Shiro. The sketch is of two hands, palm half-opened, as they both try to reach a small planet that looks like Saturn. It’s a black and white tattoo, except for the dust and mist that emerges and surrounds the two hands, purple and full of stars just like space.

“I know you wanted something bigger and more in my style, but-”

“It’s beautiful,” Shiro exhales. His fingers trace the border of the drawing. “It’s the one. This is it.”

Keith doesn’t say anything: he just observes Shiro’s face, his eyes still firm on the tattoo.

“I want this one,” Shiro repeats.

“Let’s go, then,” Keith states. “Let’s do it.”

“I thought you said the shop was closed today,” Shiro smiles.

“I’m always free for you.”

Sant’Ambrogio, Green Line. Eight stops, change in Loreto. Red line for two stops, final destination Rovereto.

Keith’s house is on the top floor of a six-story building; a two-room flat with a bedroom and a dining room complete with a kitchenette. The view from the window is grey: grey as the traffic road below, grey as the building around, grey as the smog.

But the flat is warm, painted with purple tones and the walls are full of Keith’s drawings and Nightwish posters. The library is full of books, and from the little Italian Shiro has managed to learn, he can recognize some space-themed book and some art books, and a couple of Japanese manga that he’s sure are Keith’s mother’s works.

Shiro sits down on the blanket on the floor and takes his time to look around, while Keith starts to prepare the needles and the colors.

“You should take off the shirt,” Keith says, flushing lightly.

“I changed my mind about that,” Shiro replies, as he rolls up the sleeve of his left arm. “I want the tattoo on my bicep. After all,” he adds, when he sees Keith’s uncertain expression, “I already gave an arm for the stars.”

At that point, Keith smiles.

He sits down next to Shiro, and now he isn’t smiling anymore. He’s focused on his work, on the way he keeps Shiro’s arm steady as he uses the needle to draw. Shiro remains still, his gaze focused between the hands that take form on his skin and Keith’s face. His big blue eyes are firm, focused, looking almost purple in the house light.

Shiro appreciates Keith’s art, and Keith’s work. He’s seen him draw on paper before. Seeing him actually working on a tattoo is an entirely different experience, and Shiro isn’t going to miss it. And he finds himself more focused on Keith’s face, then the pain in his arm or the forming tattoo.

He is so focused that he almost missed the moment Keith finishes his work.

“It's not done yet,” Keith says, luring his attention back. “There is still the color part that I can’t apply now because I need your skin to heal a little bit first. The coloring of this tattoo is very mixed, very complex.”

Shiro moves the arm a little to better observe the drawing that brights on his skin. It’s true that the coloring looks a little different from the drawing on the paper, but this doesn’t prevent Shiro from appreciating the result.

“Do you… do you like it?” Keith asks, expectant.

“It’s…” Shiro exhales. “It’s beautiful.”

Keith releases a small, reassuring smile. “I need to put the cream on it and then -” He’s about to stand up, but Shiro stops him, gripping his arm.

They look at each other.

Slowly, Keith kneels down again next to Shiro.

Slowly, Shiro leans forward and kisses him.

“I can’t believe it.” Matt’s sentence seems incredulous, but his tone betrays his amusement. “You were supposed to get a tattoo, not make out with your tattoo artist!”

Shiro rolls his eyes. Matt’s teasing is understandable, but no less annoying. “I have a tattoo.”

“Yeah, yeah, I saw the IG,” Matt muses. “But the tattoo is so small, and the photo was so big…”

“Okay, bye.”

“No, no, wait! I’ll stop. I promise!”

“It doesn’t matter.” Shiro smiles. “I’m at the airport security, I have to turn off the phone.”

“Oh, ah. I see…” Matt hesitates. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I am… at least I had two months far from my problems.” And now he has an eight hours flight, before he has to face the higher-ups of the Garrison, jet-lagged, to convince them to let him go on the mission. To convince them that his right arm isn’t a liability. Because that’s what he wants, right? Going back into space.

“Okay. Good. I’ll come to pick you up from the airport because dad is working for the mission and he doesn’t want to risk anyone sabotaging it.”

“Thank you, Matt.”

“Anytime.”

Shiro turns off the cell phone and takes one of the bins provided by security. He places the cell phone in there, alongside with his tablet and his belt buckle. But before putting the bin through the scanner, he stops.

Fuck them.

Yes, going to space has always been his dream. It still is. He wants to return to space. But he doesn’t want to lose things that are important to him, just to beg the same people that turned their back on him after causing his wounds.

He fought for so long. Too long. He’s going to fight again for it. Just… later on.

If the higher-ups at the Garrison don’t want him anymore, so be it. Shiro will make sure they’ll regret it.

He takes back his belongings and leaves the line. He already checked in his luggage. Oh, well, he shrugs. He guesses the payout from the Garrison will allow him to buy some shirts and a couple of pairs of underwear. He’ll call back Matt to have the luggage sent back.

He reaches the lounge: Keith is there, like he promised, waiting for Shiro’s flight to depart.

“Hey. Do you happen to know something that can host me for a little while?”

Keith jumps, surprised. He turns to look at the runway and then back to Shiro. “Why?”

Shiro understands Keith’s question is more about why the hell is Shiro here in the lounge, instead of on the plane that’s supposed to be the next step to go back on space.

“I decided that I want this tattoo to be a symbol of a new beginning for me,” Shiro states. “Aiming for the star again, from the beginning and… with someone at my side this time.” He chuckles. “After all, you drew two hands… and I only have one right now. So… would you like to be my second hand?”

Keith’s eyes are wide, and he frowns for a second until he finally releases a small laugh. “That is the weirdest proposition I’ve ever heard.”

Shiro remembers that he is a disaster with this kind of thing. “It’s isn’t a proposition… I mean… Unless you want it to be?” he adds, with a nervous laugh. “And I still have a tattoo to finish!”And great, now it looks like Shiro is only interested in the tattoo and nothing more.

But Keith’s smiling, softly. “I may know a place for you to stay,” he murmurs, leaning into Shiro’s space. “And, luckily for you, a tattoo artist lives there too!”

**Author's Note:**

> “Buongiorno!” = "Good Morning."  
> “Ah. Buonogirnò.” “Sirco quisto artist… Keith?” "Ah. Goodmorning. I'm looking for this artist... Keith?"  
> “Keith! C’è un cliente per te!” = "Keith! A client for you!"  
> “Non ho appuntamenti per oggi.” = "I don't have any appointment for today."  
> “Non credo abbia un appuntamento, è uno straniero.” = "I don't think he has an appointment, he's foreign."  
> “Uno straniero?” = "A foreign?"  
> “Giapponese? Forse è un amico di tua madre.” = "Japanese? maybe he's a friend of your mother."  
> “Arrivo.” “Finisci tu di sistemare dietro, per favore.” “Mi cercava?” = "Coming." "Please, put you in order the back." "Are you looking for me?"
> 
> “Keith! Che bello vederti.” “Chi è il tuo amico?” “Hajimemashite.” = "Keith! It's so nice to see you." "Who's your friend?" "Nice to meet you."  
> “Watashi wa Shirogane Takashi desu. Hajimemashite.” = "I'm Shirogane Takashi. Nice to meet you."  
> “La colpa è tua che non lo parli più con tua madre.” = "It's your fault for not speaking more with your mother."  
> “È lei che parla poco con me.” = "She's the one that doesn't speak with me."


End file.
